


She Hung the Stars

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Series: Collections K [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven draws inspiration from her best friends to crank out her Creative Writing final.</p><p>Or Raven writes Bellarke drabble trash just like the rest of us.</p><p>-K</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Hung the Stars

Raven was fucked. And not even the good kind of fucked. Not the kind that came with a toe curling orgasm. _That_ was what she needed. Not this stupid assignment from her sophomore GenEd class.

And she _gets_ it. The GenEd system is important for making well-rounded students, blah blah blah. It was probably important for her astronaut dreams that she is aware of today’s global political climate and is well read and can speak some language other than the engineering jargon that she is already well versed in, especially if she has any hope of getting to the International Space Station one day.

What she doesn’t get is why her English credit has to come from a creative writing course. She can bullshit her way through discussing character tropes and various themes and moods that are probably (definitely) already over analyzed. Creative writing is a different story. What the actual fuck is she supposed to write about? For her midterm, she wrote about a young girl who did her first space walk at the age of 18 and set a shit ton of records that her male counterparts hadn’t even come close to achieving. She thought the paper was brilliant and expected an A, but instead the top of her paper had _this isn’t supposed to be a dream journal_ next to a C written in red ink. That had pretty much destroyed any ounce of potential for written creativity.

That is why, four hours before her paper is due, Raven sat at the kitchen table in her apartment, staring at a blank Word document. She doesn’t procrastinate. Ever. When it comes to her engineering assignments, she already has a plan made up before she has left the lecture hall and will finish the first prototype before the sun sets that day. So this whole not-knowing-what-the-fuck-she-is-going-to-do thing, fucking sucks.

She was contemplating closing her laptop and just binging something stupid on Netflix when the door slammed shut and a more than usual pissed off Bellamy stomped into the kitchen. His face was red and his neck was red and she was willing to bet that if he stripped off his navy blue v-neck, his chest would be red, too. She could only guess that his mood was because of something Clarke Griffin had said or done or not said or not done and her assumption was proved correct when he mumbled _fucking princess_ as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer that he downed in about 3.8 seconds.

She stared at him expectantly, welcoming the distraction, and waited for his skin to return to its natural olive complexion. When he didn’t immediately spill the beans on today’s verbal (and maybe physical) boxing match between Bellamy and Clarke, she raised her eyebrows to say _c’mon dude, you’re killing me here._

With a sigh, he chucked his empty bottle in the recycling bin beside the fridge and rambled on about how Clarke showed up to their weekly lunch with Octavia _and Lincoln_. She insisted on them all having a sit down so that maybe Bellamy can _finally_ lay off of him and realize that he is a great guy. And of course he pulled her to the side so that he can ask her why of all days, it had to be this day and this week because _it’s finals week, Clarke, he has shit to do, for fuck’s sake_. And she had pointed out that if he gave the guy a chance, he would probably like him and then he wouldn’t be so worried about it that he wrote about the Assassination of Lincoln and citing that John Wilkes Booth did it because _Lincoln was dating his little sister and the age difference was just inappropriate_. And that he had walked out because she apparently hit a nerve when she said something along the lines of _and just because you can’t find love with the string of girls you pick up at the bar, doesn’t mean that theirs isn’t real_.

So he had stormed back here and that was that and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But Raven wanted to put off this assignment more than he wanted to put off this conversation (they had lived together for two years and she knew when he wanted to talk about something but pretended he didn’t). So she sat up straighter in her chair and looked at her roommate. _Maybe if you just gave into your feelings for her and told her you loved her you could kill two birds with one stone_. 

He flipped her off and rolled his eyes before sinking onto the kitchen counter because he knew she was right and she knew that he knew that she was right. But for a really smart guy, Bellamy could be really fucking stupid. So she knew that he wasn’t going to say anything to Clarke for a long time because _she doesn’t see him that way_ which was bullshit and everyone but Bellamy knew it.

After Bellamy ran a hand through his messy black curls and sauntered off to his room and slammed the door, Raven opened her computer and started typing. It was going to be drabble, and loosely based on life (though not hers, so it won’t be another _diary entry_ ) but she was sure she could get some high quality metaphors and hyperbole and creativity in there.

And she did. She finished with about 45 minutes to spare before she shot her professor an email with the attached document:

\---

_Bellamy Blake had really only loved one girl his entire life: his sister._

_So when their mom died, he didn’t think twice about postponing his dreams so that she could pursue her own._

_He deferred his acceptance to university._

_He got a decent paying job at a mediocre company owned by an intolerable human being that ensured they had everything that they needed._

_He got a second, poor paying job at a great bar run by incredible people that ensured that she would have everything she wanted._

_He did odd jobs around the neighborhood and put the money straight into a savings account that would help pay for her higher education._

_He did everything for her and nothing for himself (though that isn’t true, because her being happy and well was his life’s blood)._

_He loved her so much and he talked about her to anyone who would listen and he looked at her like she hung the moon._

_But then the day came where she went to university._

_She moved into a tiny dorm and made friends._

_She partied hard and studied harder (although maybe it was the other way around)._

_She met boys and girls and everyone in between who fell in love with her the second she walked into the room._

_And she met a boy that she loved fiercely (much to her brother’s dismay)._

_She made a second family for herself, and of course her brother was always there._

_That’s how he met the second girl that he would love, the girl that hung the stars._

_Clarke Griffin was the princess and he was the guard._

_She her golden hair shined bright and her blue eyes filled him with joy._

_He knew he didn’t stand a chance, that he would never be worthy._

_That didn’t stop him from protecting her._

_That didn’t stop him from punching the guy at the bar who didn’t seem like he was going to take no for an answer._

_That didn’t stop him from insisting that it wasn’t him who punched the guy, he wouldn’t do that because he knows she can stand up for herself and he must have fallen or something._

_That didn’t stop him from carrying her to bed when she would pass out on the couch or in the library or in the studio or at the hospital where she works._

_That didn’t stop him from scraping up what little pocket money he had buying a new vase and flowers for her dad’s grave when some stupid kids destroyed what was there one Halloween._

_That didn’t stop him from cancelling a date so that she could cry on his shoulder when she found out her first love had been cheating on her._

_That didn’t stop him from doing a lot of things except telling her that she loved him._

_And if you were to ask him why, why he didn’t just tell her_

_He would say it’s because he was never meant to reach the stars_

_And that he is happy knowing that she will shine bright for other people_

_And that he is content with his sky consisting of just the moon._

_But if you were to ask anyone else, they would tell you_

_That his sky could consist of the moon AND the stars_

_And that she was shining so bright for him, that he couldn’t even see it._

_Fin._

\---

Raven hadn’t intended for either Clarke or Bellamy to read her story. So it was definitely not her who left it lying on top of both of their desks the next day. And it also wasn’t her who locked them in his room after Clarke had come bursting in, waving the papers around and asking _what the fuck_. But it definitely was her who sent a group text reading _Operation Bellarke Complete_ when Clarke was cut off mid sentence by what she assumed was Bellamy’s lips and their confused yelling was replaced with pleasure filled moans.

She wasn’t sure what she was happier about: her two best friends _finally_ getting together or getting an A+ on her final Creative Writing assignment. Probably the former, but she was still excited when she walked into the kitchen the next day to see that Bellamy had hung her paper on the refrigerator.                                          


End file.
